Hardhome
POV of Domeric Bolton
Domeric stood on the deck of the Titanic and gazed at the rows of tents in Hardhome.
This was the first voyage of his flagship and despite all his fears, the ship thankfully did not strike an iceberg and did not go deep into the ocean.
He had placed extra runes at the front and sides of the ship so that it would be able to sustain a collision with an iceberg.
In hindsight, he wondered if naming the ship Titanic was really such a wise move. It had seemed like a cool thing to do at that moment but now he was starting to wonder if he would always live in fear of icebergs or something similar while sailing on this ship.
"There are less free folk this time." Karsi pointed out the obvious as she used the telescope or the far eye, as the people of this world called them, to locate the main tent among the sea of tents.
"A lot of these people are wounded." She told him and he frowned upon hearing that.
Mostly because he had brought very few medics with him on the ships.
"What do you think happened here?" she asked, and he shrugged.
"The ones I rejected and are doomed to stay in the True North probably attacked these people in a bid for them to stay here as well." He replied.
It seemed like he should have kept a better eye on what was going on in the True North with the Valyrian Candle. But he had been too busy working on the ritual magic and learning from the magical tomes these past few weeks and had little time to manage his own lands let alone care about people who had yet to become his subjects.
"I don’t see Mance anywhere," Karsi told him.
That was unusual. Whenever he came to Hardhome to take the people to his lands, Mance would always come to the shore to greet their arrival.
"Let’s send an envoy to make sure this is not some kind of trap." He said and was about to turn and select one of his men for the job when Karsi spoke once again.
"That won’t be necessary. I think I see... yes, that’s definitely Tormund and his people." She told him.
He put a wandless charm on his eyes and looked at the shore once again. True enough, Tormund and his people had come out to greet him.
Does that mean that something happened to Mance Rayder? That would be a pity. Mance was quite a capable man and someone whom he was thinking of taking as a subordinate. It would be a great pity if Mance died in this snowy hellhole.
"Ready the boats." Then he told the captain of the ship. No, he was not the captain of Titanic. He hardly knew how to navigate a small boat let alone a ship as large as this. Plus, he had only joined Karsi and his men when they were about to arrive at Hardhome.
When they landed and reached the main tent, he saw Mance Rayder lying on a crudely made bed. He looked at Mance’s right leg or what was left of it and grimaced.
"That doesn’t look pretty." He said, not knowing what else to say.
"Heh..." Mance chuckled. "What is done is done. I am in no position to help my people anymore. Take my people to the South, Domeric. Help them settle in your lands. And prepare well for what’s coming. And burn my body. I don’t want to..."
"You’re talking about as if you’re already dead." He pointed out "You look pretty alive to me."
"Heh..." Mance chuckled weakly "I’ve lost too much blood. My body is already going cold Domeric. A man knows when his time has come. And my time has come."
He rolled his eyes at how melodramatic the man was becoming. He took out his wand and cast a charm at Mance to find his blood group.
He might not have enough ingredients to create a Blood Replenishing Potion, but it didn’t mean that he couldn’t simply take some blood from the others to replenish Mance’s lost blood.
And as it happened, he always had a supply of blood that he’d kept for emergencies like this.
Being an auror for years had taught him to be prepared for anything.
He knew a lot of healing charms and spells thanks to the reward he got in the past, Compendium of Healing Spells and Charms. But he couldn’t replenish blood or regrow limbs with just some spells and charms.
At least not with the knowledge he got from this level two reward. He needed potions for that kind of treatment. He knew the recipe for blood replenishing potion, but he couldn’t make one because he didn’t know the equivalent materials specific to this world.
And a potion that could grow limbs was beyond his knowledge. He could attach severed limbs but couldn’t grow a new limb at the moment. Maybe he could in the future if he got a reward like advanced healing spells and charms or potion mastery knowledge.
"So... you really are a warlock." Mance chuckled. "Never saw you use that stick before. Even if I heard about it from others."
"Yeah. I’m not really a Warlock. I don’t sacrifice children to gain the blessings of some eldritch demon those people worship as their god. But that’s beside the point."
Well, he was practically a warlock. After he gained the book, ’Path of Warlock’, from the symbol he chose to become a magic swordsman which is a sub-class of a Warlock.
But that kind of warlock and the warlock that the people of this world knew was different. So technically he didn’t lie.
Personally, he would prefer the term battlemage to warlock.
He took out a pouch filled with the right blood group and removed the stasis charm from it. "The point is... you’re not going to die anytime soon, Mance. Your people still need you."
’And I still want you as my subordinate.’ He thought to himself.
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Next Chapters’ Name:
Ch.113: Savior Complex
Ch.114: Conspiracy